The Aftermath

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by Iris Bolling




  The Aftermath

  A Nate Reigns Novel

  Iris Bolling

  The Aftermath: Copyright © 2021 by Iris Bolling

  * * *

  ISBN:978-1-7344753-4-0

  LCCN: 2021912181

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are with the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by:

  Siri Austin Entertainment LLC

  Richmond, Virginia 23222

  Website: www.siriaustin.com

  To Shareta Caldwell-Rippatoe

  I shared a vision.

  You saw the vision.

  We are making the vision a reality.

  Thank you - 100K

  Introduction

  To all of my romantic suspense readers, fair warning, the Nate Reigns series is not a romance story. From time to time there will be romantic elements in some of the stories, for that is a part of life; however, this series is suspenseful, mysterious, and every now and then, a bit of a thriller.

  To my new readers from the suspense, mystery, and thriller genres the characters you are about to meet are layered, as human beings tend to be. My stories are character-driven and have multiple plots happening at once. While you may be able to quickly assess who is a friend and who is a foe with some, others will leave you wondering. Also, I tend to drop one-liners in my stories and you may wonder why. Well, nine times out of ten, you will see those one-mentions turned into a full-length novel in the future.

  The Nate Reigns series is based on my interpretation of real-life events, mixed with my imagination of advanced technology and “what-if” scenarios. Therefore, the topics discussed in this series are not going to be a joy ride but will be something you enjoy reading about. Step into my world with an open mind and envision the possibility of heroes in the background righting wrongs and taking down the bad guys using any means in their arsenal of resources. Even if those wrong-doers have titles we were told to respect, they will be held accountable. Because when the law breaks the law…the consequences can be deadly.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Epilogue

  REVIEW

  About the Author

  Also by Iris Bolling

  1

  Richmond, Virginia

  Friday, April 13, Commonwealth Attorney Alex Burnett died.

  Minutes before his demise, Alex placed an envelope with a single word printed 743 times across a piece of paper inside the concealed lining under the driver’s seat of his vehicle. Only one other person knew of the hidden area, therefore, he knew the document was secure. Alex zipped the lining, placed the flap over the opening and made a mental note to send a message about the envelope. That tickle he experienced whenever he found a piece of evidence that had the potential to break a case had kicked into his gut. The word had no meaning to him, nor did it appear to be connected to his case, however his gut was telling him to hold the piece of paper close to the vest until the connection made sense.

  Alex checked his watch. Hell, he was late. Gathering his trench coat from the passenger seat of his Ford Mustang convertible, he stepped out of the vehicle that had become his pride and joy. Thinking of the piece of paper he had yet to deem as evidence, Alex decided he would get his friend Nate to check out the word in the morning to see if he could determine the significance, if any.

  Alex took the stairs up from the parking garage. He was already an hour late for his date. Yes, with work behind him for now, he was focused on dinner and a little tender loving care. He was certain his dinner date would be beyond pissed by the time he reached the restaurant. He smiled thinking of ways he would convince her just how apologetic he was.

  Alex reached the lobby of his condominium just as the rain started to kick in. The security officer, Jim, threw his hand up in acknowledgement.

  "Long day, Mr. Burnett?"

  "A longer night, if I'm lucky." Alex smiled and waved at the man as he quickly walked over to the elevator doors.

  With a swipe of his hand in front of the pad on the wall, the doors opened with a swoosh and closed just as fast as he stepped inside. Alex pushed the button to the twenty-seventh floor, pulled out his cell and sent a message to Nate to call him first thing in the morning. He then sent a message to his brat of a sister telling her he would see her tomorrow at the lawyer's office.

  It was just the two of them now that their mother had died. Janice Burnett-Taylor-Porter, his sister, was going through her second divorce battle and he wanted to be there to support her. At forty-five, he was still the caring big brother. Always there to protect and comfort his now thirty-five-year-old sister, no matter how spoiled she was. Yes, he’d had a hand in making her that way, but it couldn't be helped. He loved her.

  Alex did not bother to look up when the elevator doors opened, his fingers gliding easily across the phone, as he walked towards the door of his condo. The hallway was empty as usual for that time of night. The entire level encompassed four condos, each 2100 square feet of luxury living. He had just been elected Commonwealth Attorney for the City of Richmond, marking his last days as a detective in the Major Crimes Unit of the Richmond Police Department. Now, two years later, he was in a good position in life. Ready to begin to settle down with one woman, maybe have a child or two. All he had to do was convince that one woman, whom he had loved for years, to fulfill his dream. Until then, he would enjoy the single life with vigor. If all went according to his plans, this date would be his last…just not the way he thought.

  Alex opened the door with t
he palm of his hand on the pad. Walking into the living room, he threw his coat across the white leather sofa as the door closed. Walking promptly towards his bedroom, a quick shower and a change of clothes were the only things on his mind.

  “Bedroom lights on,” he ordered his smart device as he pulled his tie from around his neck. He froze the moment he stepped into his bedroom.

  A naked woman was lying on his bed. Taking a step forward, he took a good look at her. She was young, Hispanic, with long black hair and marks on the heel of her right foot. He did not recognize her, and she certainly was not his date.

  Someone had been in his place. His instincts kicked in and he reached for his gun. No, he was no longer a cop, but he still carried his weapon as if it was an extension of him. His thumb released the latch securing the gun in his holster, just as the hairs on his neck stood up. They were still here.

  He pulled his weapon sweeping left to right, checking every corner of the bedroom. Taking steps towards the closet, he stepped inside, glancing towards the back where he knew secrets lay.

  From behind him, a muscular arm circled his neck, placing him in a choke hold. Alex elbowed the assailant in the abdomen. As he turned to confront the man, he felt a prick break the skin on his neck. Cool liquid entered his vein as he swung the butt of the gun across the man’s face. Then, he felt nothing.

  "What the…" A tranquilizer of some kind, he thought as the words trailed off. His body immediately stopped fighting. With the question still lodged in his throat unable to escape, his eyes were wide open, seeing the man who had subdued him; yet, not understanding why. Alex’s unfired gun slumped to the floor along with his body. Then, another man stepped from the recesses of his closet into his line of sight. Their eyes met. Recognition was immediate.

  “Hello Alex. You are going to die, in a minute or two. Know this is not personal. It is a part of the master plan. If you were still a detective, you would not have been on our radar. But you’re not,” he shrugged his shoulders, “well, here we are.” The man stared down at him.

  Alex tried to speak, to move, but his body did not respond to the command from his brain. Master plan? The question rolled through his mind. He could feel his body shutting down, one organ at a time. He knew Nate had to be warned about this man, but he was about to take his last breath. There was nothing he could do.

  His mind traveled to his sister Janice. Who would be there for her? His mind wondered as his mother’s smiling face appeared before him, and his father’s right beside hers. She would be okay. Nate would watch over her. His thoughts turned to Regan. His beautiful Regan. The woman who he had planned to ask to be his wife. Now, that day would never come. The time they wasted giving each other space to build their careers… they could have done it all together. Now, it was all being taken away because of a master plan.

  The cop in him had questions. What was the master plan? Who was behind it and most importantly, why? What was the motive? Right before death captured him, his last thought was that he would find a way, from heaven or hell, to speak from the grave to bring this man to justice.

  * * *

  Alexandria, Virginia

  In an undisclosed location, Senator Jason Rolfeman, Chairman of the Intelligence Committee, Congressman Edward Ackerson, Chairman of The House Judiciary Committee, and Justice Patrick Cunningham, Associate Justice of the Supreme Court, sat in a private study. The surrounding floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with law books gave the room a darkness, even with the desk lights lit. The men sat in upholstered chairs with cherrywood trim conversing as they waited for the next call to come in.

  “When we began this organization, we all believed the task would require careful, lengthy steps to create a sustainable society to make America as great as it once was and keep us in power.” Senator Rolfeman stated. “After five years of recruiting true patriots, securing financing, and strategic planning, our vision is coming to fruition.”

  “The support of our plan is proving to be substantial,” Congressman Ackerson nodded in agreement. “Our affiliates in the following target areas have reported significant movement. Minnesota, Ohio, South Carolina, Missouri, Massachusetts, Delaware, New Jersey, Mississippi, Georgia, Texas, Virginia, Illinois, Maryland, Nevada, Colorado, Connecticut, New York, North Carolina, California and Wisconsin.”

  “What is the significance of those states?” Justice Cunningham inquired.

  “They happen to be states with the highest rating for an active African-American electorate,” Senator Rolfeman explained. “If we are to retain power within the democratic system of the country, we must create legal remedies to the reduction of the voting rights of those who are targeted.”

  “States are using questionable tactics in their legislatures that are certain to be brought before the court,” Justice Cunningham stated. “The laws are ridiculously obvious to anyone who can read.”

  Senator Rolfeman nodded. “I concur with your analysis. Their actions are short sighted and, on the surface, ridiculous. However, it allows us to move our agenda forward undetected. Let them waste their time with menial laws, while we conduct our mission to implement the master plan.”

  The red phone on the desk rang.

  Congressman Ackerman answered the call.

  “Level 1.”

  “Level 12. The Commonwealth Attorney position in Richmond, Virginia has been secured.”

  “Notification received. Proceed to next level.” Ackerman replied hanging up the receiver. He smiled as he sat back and exhaled. “Richmond, Virginia has been secured. The law is now in our control.”

  The other men nodded.

  “There is the matter of Judge Reid,” Justice Cunningham stated.

  “That will be handled in time,” Senator Rolfeman responded as he opened the manual in front of him. “Let us review our position then plan our next steps for code green mobilization.”

  2

  All hell broke out the minute defense attorney Nathanial Reigns lost his cool after a witness challenged him. Nathan “Nate” Reigns, son to the aforementioned defense attorney, shook his head, recalling the moment, as he stood under his shower allowing the warm cascade of water to wash over him. He was tired, bone tired after working twenty-four hours straight on a raid involving multiple arrests. He hadn’t finished the arrest reports until seven in the morning and then he had to appear in court by nine. The past two days had taken a toll on his body. However, the frustrated look on his father’s face when Nate would not answer the question, in the manner he needed, was worth it. Nate would not have missed it for his weight in gold.

  They both knew the day would come when they would appear in court on the opposite sides of the table. In most cases, Nate’s reports were so tight, it was difficult to question the police procedures performed. Yet, his father had found something he thought he could challenge. He was wrong. Nate had sparred against his father in many ways, yet none had given him satisfaction like today’s court appearance. Yes, he had pushed his father, deliberately aggravating him by answering only with direct answers. At some point, his father had to learn that his shit did stink. If his mother was not going to teach him, Nate would, in his own way. And it happening in court, in front of the Judge and his father’s admiring law partners, was just icing on the cake.

  Nate stepped out of the shower and pulled a towel from the heating rack. One day his father would understand that he could not rule him with the iron thumb he once had. Drying off, Nate figured he would get a call from his sister or brother about the abrupt ending to the court proceedings, but for now, he needed to sleep. The contention between him and his father would have to wait.

  Nate fell across the bed naked. The moment his head hit the cool comfort of his pillow, his eyes closed, his mind drifting into a welcome state of slumber. Unfortunately, his subconscious mind went into a familiar recurring nightmare.

  The courtroom erupted when the jury foreman read the verdict of not guilty. It was the first time in Nate’s legal career that he wi
shed he were not one of the top defense attorneys in the country. He had gotten the murdering son of a bitch off on another police technicality. What would it take for the RPD to understand that when the law breaks the law, the consequences could be deadly?

  The partners of the firm were celebrating the high seven-figure retainer plus the acquittal bonus, but that was the last thing Nate felt like doing. At the age of thirty, he was a partner in his family’s law firm with a healthy bank account, piercing brown eyes, and dimples on a six foot two, 195-pound body frame. If he had been in the mood to celebrate, it would have been with a fine glass of wine and a woman to match. But for him, the million dollar plus invoice from this client was nothing to celebrate.

  Later that night, instead of a long shower to wash the stench of the verdict away, Nate was in his car answering his father’s summons. His father insisted it was an emergency. As much as he despised his father, Nate could not ignore the plea in his voice. It prompted him to respond to the request.

 

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